


Hold My Martini

by doodnoice



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Drinking, Drinking to Cope, Drunken Confessions, Excessive Drinking, F/M, Female Reader, Fluff, Friendship, Gender-neutral Reader, Love Confessions, M/M, Reader-Insert, Romance, Self-Esteem Issues, This shit is really requited but yall don't know how to talk, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, jk, male reader - Freeform, oblivious love interests, reader - Freeform, self-deprecation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 14:01:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16724766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doodnoice/pseuds/doodnoice
Summary: You consider yourself a lot of things, but thinking you could ever be in the same league as Thor is NOT one of them. Peter, however, begs to differ.-Thor Odinson/ReaderResponse to challenge prompt for "Drunken Confessions" on Tumblr





	Hold My Martini

**Author's Note:**

> [Originally posted on Tumblr](https://doodwrites.tumblr.com/post/178820090315/hold-my-martini-thor-odinsonreader-prompt)  
> Please Note: You and Peter are 20-somethings, NOT high-schoolers

You should have known better than to trust Peter Parker. Not only because he’s your best friend, but because he’s been way too involved in your romantic life (or lack thereof) since discovering your teensy-weensy little crush on none other than his pal, Thor. Now, normally this wouldn’t have been an issue considering you and Peter (and the rest of the a-team for that matter) tend to operate in different worlds.

Even though you’re a SHIELD field agent, you aren’t particularly special. You don’t have super powers, and despite being recently promoted to a spy-oriented position, you still can’t hold a candle to Agent Romanoff or Agent Barton. The only reason you can even  _talk_ to the Avengers is because Peter always brings you around the tower, so they kind of have to interact with you on some level, even if it’s just a casual ‘hello’. Still, you doubt any of them remember your name, and, you’re OK with that.

Well, you’re almost OK with that, because in accepting that you won’t ever match up to any of their skills, you’re also accepting that your crush on Thor is less than feasible - it’s practically  _impossible_ , and you’re only hurting yourself in letting your fantasies run wild with the possibility, but it’s equally as impossible to let it go when Peter refuses to let you move on.

For some reason or another, he has it in his head that Thor would be -  _get this_  - actually interested in you -  _you_ , Field Agent McNobody, would be a “great” match-up with someone who is not only a soon-to-be king, but a literal god from the mythos of people hundreds of years ago. 

Thor can physically summon lightning from the damn sky. You can’t even really compare. You’re not even sure why the man is willing to talk to you enough that Peter can remotely believe that he would like you. Sure, when Thor’s around, he makes an effort to have a little chat with you, but that’s probably only because he gets weirded out by your unintentional staring. So, no, there’s no way Thor could ever like you the way you so desperately like him. And yet, Peter persists.

Like tonight, where you’re set as Pete’s plus one for one of Tony’s private parties where you’re not even sure you should be considering most of the attendees are either 10x your superior at your workplace, or so much more powerful than you that if they shook your hand, they would have to do so softly, because they’d likely break your bones.

It’s practically a joke that you’re even here, but Peter wouldn’t take your very emphatic “please, dear god, don’t make me go”, seriously. Apparently, not only does he think that you have a chance with Thor, but that some of his other co-workers actually like being around you. Sometimes, you think that spider bite he got affected more than just his strength.

At least, that’s the justification you give him for leaving you for “just a few minutes” to go help show off some tech he and Tony had been working on for the past week. As much as you love Peter, sometimes you really do hate him.

Still, you know better than to mope or otherwise drag around a party filled with the world’s most dignified and powerful. Instead, you float on over to the bar in an attempt to numb the sense of abandonment and just sheer awkwardness with whatever alcohol the bartender would let you drown yourself in.

“Uh, can I get a martini, please?” You say, leaning heavily against the bar counter as you scan the room for what has to be the fiftieth time in search of Peter.

“Let me guess, shaken, not stirred?” The person behind the bar gives you a breathy laugh, “You’re really taking your new spy promotion to heart, huh, kid?”

Recognizing the voice, you perk up, face going red as you turn to look at them, “Oh, Agent Barton!” You start, completely mortified, “I-I’m so sorry. I thought you were the bartender. I-I didn’t realize-”

“Relax, kid,” Barton says, pouring some vermouth and Gin in a mixing glass and giving it a little stir before sliding it across the counter to you. When you just stare at it, he makes a little “oh” sound, before plucking an olive with a toothpick and dropping it in your glass, “There you go, now it’s perfect.”

You watch a little confused as he steps out from around the counter with two other drinks in hand. “You’re uh, not tending the bar, are you?” You ask warily, because there is no way a distinguished agent like Barton would do that at a party full of his colleagues and friends.

Someone laughs gently beside you, and you turn to watch as Barton hands Agent Romanoff one of the two drinks he was holding before casually standing beside her. “It’s an open bar, agent,” Romanoff says with a cryptic smile after taking a small sip of her drink, “I would have thought you would have noticed that considering your recent promotion.”

You sputter, at a loss for words, “I-I, uh…” though thankfully, Barton saves you from further embarrassing yourself by elbowing Romanoff and giving you a smile.

“Nat’s just joking around, kid.” he gives Romanoff a quick look before nodding to you, “We’re actually surprised Fury didn’t promote you earlier. Your scores are some of the best we’ve seen by far.”

You look between the two of them, mind still reeling at the fact that they even know who you are, let alone have seen your records. Deciding to act like a rational adult, you clear your throat and take a quick sip of your martini in an attempt to regain your confidence. “I- um… thank you.” You place your drink back on the counter and give them both a smile, “I’m just happy that I’ll be given the opportunity to do more.”

“I’m sure the increase in paycheck isn’t too bad either.” Barton laughs.

You smile, “No, it sure isn’t.”

You, Romanoff, and Barton continue on like that for a while - lingering between the comfortable line of small-talk and in-depth conversation before you finally relax. It probably helped that you had finished your first martini and started in on your second by the time the you started enjoying yourself. Romanoff and Barton even got you to start calling them by their first names as things began to get more personal. You actually started forgetting why you were even stressed out in the first place, though, of course, that didn’t last long.

“So, kid,” Barton-  _Clint_  starts off with a particular sparkle in his eye that you’ve come to recognize as mischief.

“I’m not liking that look on your face…” You say with a smile, handing Natasha a glass of iced water while you stir your third martini for the night. “Should I be worried, or is this going to be something stupid?”

Natasha scoffs over the frosty rim of her glass, “Knowing Clint? It’s probably safe to say it’s gonna be a little bit from column a, a little bit from column b.”

Clint chuckles, finishing off his glass before giving you and Natasha a pleased grin, “Ah, you two read me too well.”

“So, it  _is_  stupid.” You pop an olive in your mouth and take a swig of your martini before you rest your elbows on the counter, eyeing Clint with amusement, “OK, lay it on me.”

He leans in conspiratorially, and, naturally, you and Natasha follow suit. “So, how well would you say you know Thor?”

Your eyes widen, shocked, and you look between the two agents questioningly. Natasha leans back with a laugh, “Oh, I know where this is going.”

“Where what is going?” You ask, narrowing your eyes at the woman, but she just levels you with a knowing stare and… “Oh my god,” you cover your face with your hands, “I’m gonna kill Peter.”

“Now, why would you want to go on and do a thing like that?” Clint says, teasing smirk still in play, “I just asked if you knew the guy considering he’s been eyeing you all night. You hiding something from us, agent?”

You glare at Clint, too flustered to think past his teasing, “You’re the spymaster - you figure it out.” You down the other half of your martini while the two agents laugh.

“Hey, no need to get angry,” Clint soothes, patting your shoulder, “Your ‘secret’ is safe with us… But you and the ‘god of thunder’ over there might wanna keep your affairs a little quieter than what you’ve been doing if you want it to  _remain_  a secret.”

Again, you can’t help the shocked, almost indignant expression on your face, “Wait,  _what_?”

“Oh, don’t act coy with us,” Clint says, “We’re friends, aren’t we? Besides, most of us already know you and Thor have a _thing_  and the only one who doesn’t is Cap, but he couldn’t tell a budding romance if it punched him in the face.”

You stare at Clint, your mouth hanging open as your alcohol muddled brain tries to catch up with his words. You and Thor have a thing? Not only do you have a thing, but everyone knows about it? You blink, shake your head, and then begin pouring yourself another drink - this time, you’re switching it up with just straight vodka despite your head already feeling cloudy as it is.

You pour your first shot and down it. Then your second. Third. Clint and Natasha watch; though, luckily, Natasha intervenes by grabbing the bottle from your hand before you can begin pouring your fourth.

You waver and have to steady yourself on the bar as your head spins.

“What the hell was that about?” Clint grabs your shoulder to help you balance, “You OK, kid?”

You laugh, because, right now, it’s about the only thing you can do to keep yourself from crying, “I’m fineeee…” you say, the martinis finally beginning to catch up with you, “I’m just… peachy.” You say the last part bitterly, despite yourself.

“Doubt that.” Clint replies, giving Natasha a look to which she nods and begins to stand from her stool, only to stop short when she finds she’s blocked by someone. Not noticing, Clint tries to usher you out from behind the bar, “Look, why don’t we-”

“I said I’m fine, Clint. It’s just… stupid.” You sniffle, though, thankfully, you’re not crying - yet - you still feel the urge to do so lump in your throat. 

“What is?” He asks, tilting his head at you.

You look up at Clint, lip quivering, “I don’t have a ‘thing’ with Thor. I never did. I never  _could_.”

“Really?” Clint eyes widen, shocked, “I thought-”

“Yeah, well, you’re wrong - why wouldn’t you be? He’s literally the _god_ of thunder and I’m just…” You bite your lip to keep it from quivering, “I’m nobody. Just because he’s nice to me doesn’t mean he likes me. I mean, sure, we talk sometimes and he makes me laugh, but that’s just him being friendly, y’know? And from what you and Natasha are saying, he probably only talks to me because feels bad for me, since, apparently everyone knows I like him.” 

You let out an exasperated sigh and look up at the ceiling, “God, I am the worst spy ever. How can I work for a secret organization if I can’t even hide the fact I’m practically in love with Thor?”

“You’re in love with me?”

You drop your head to look over Clint’s shoulder and… great. The universe must really hate you, today. Of course Thor would be standing right there listening to your stupid monologue about liking him and of course you would have to go ahead and use the ‘love’ word like you both haven’t only just been talking for the past few months and nothing else. Of. Fucking. Course.

Your stomach churns, and you manage to whisper a very casual, “I think I’m gonna be sick,” before you pull away from Clint’s grasp and stumble through the party as you quickly try to be anywhere but here. 

Man, what you wouldn’t do for some flying powers, right now. Maybe you should ask Pete to figure out a way to make his whole web shooting gimmick “regular human” friendly, so you can just swing out of awkward situations without having to worry about breaking your neck.

Somehow, you manage to find yourself out on an empty terrace instead of hiding in a bathroom like you were planning on doing. You trip, stumbling out across the space, and, lacking the common sense of most sober adults, you decide in order to stop the world from spinning, you should grab the metal railing of one of the tallest towers in New York and use it for support.

Just as you’re about to grab it, however, a large hand clasps over your shoulder, making you - and in turn your head - spin, thoroughly knocking you off of your barely sustainable balance. You manage to catch yourself on a warm chest, and promptly lose the ability to talk when you realize who is exactly holding you.

Thor looks down at you with a perplexed smile, though it’s mired in worry, “Are you alright?” He asks, tone lilted but kind, “You ran out of the party like you were being chased down by a Hulk. Although, for that to be true, there would have been a lot more screaming.” And then he laughs, and it’s the most attractive sound you’ve ever heard, but you can’t bring yourself to swoon because your brain is still stuck on the fact you accidentally confessed your ‘love’ to him and he apparently followed you out and…  _oh my god, he’s holding you!_

When he notices you’re not laughing, or really emoting at all, Thor’s expression creases into more concentrated worry, and before you know it, he picks you up, ignoring your surprised spluttering, and ushers you away from the edge of the terrace and back inside.

Gently, Thor sets you down on a soft gray chaise and sits beside you, keeping you steady and somewhat trapped between his body and the cushion on the other side of you - though if you wanted to, you could easily move, you can’t fight that selfish, pining part of you that is more than comfortable where you’re at. Feeling a bout of dizziness - and apparently courage -, you lay your head on his chest and breathe out a sigh.

“Should I go find Dr. Banner?” Thor asks, voice pitched low, and you feel the rumble against your cheek, reminding you how intimate this is - your head on his chest with one of your arms thrown over his midsection while his arm cradles you close. If the you from this morning saw this, they would probably have a heart attack.

“Mmm, no.” You mumble out, eyes closing for a second before they snap open and you drunkenly remember what the hell had caused this chain of events to even occur. You lift your head from Thor’s chest and look up at him, “I’m so sorry, Thor.”

Raising one blonde brow, Thor gives you a lopsided grin, “I’m not sure I follow.”

“You shouldn’t have to take care of me. We-we’re at a party. This is… so not what you came here for.” You try to keep your words from slurring, but your head is still stuffy from all the alcohol.

Thor laughs and pats your arm where he’s holding you, “While that may be so, I’m not here because I have to be. I’m here because I want to be.” Thor adjusts how he’s sitting, practically pulling you on top of him as he settles against the cushions and closes his eyes, “Besides, I have been trying to find you all night, and it would be foolish to leave you now that I have.”

You feel your heart skip a beat, brain fuzzily trying to connect the dots even while your subconscious is screaming how impossible this is. Carefully, you let your chin rest on his chest and give him a mildly unimpressed look, a pang of sadness in your chest, “…If this is because you feel responsible about me freaking out because I confessed my… feelings about you, I don’t want you to do things for me just because you feel bad for me-”

Thor sits up until you’re both practically facing each other, and you try not to focus on how you’re now  _definitely_  in his lap, and oh wow… you are close aren’t you? Grasping your chin between his fingers, he tilts your head up and kisses you.

Heat flushes you from your cheeks to your neck and you gasp, because there’s this spark of attraction that leads that heat spiraling down until you’re warm all over and everything feels right. Before he can pull away, you kiss him back, pushing closer and grasping his shoulders while one of his hands runs down your side and settles somewhere on your hip and his other cradles the back of your head gently.

He nibbles at your lower lip, asking permission, and you give it to him - give _in_ to him, because this is everything you’ve wanted since you met the guy and started to talk. Thor’s beard rasps your chin and cheeks, and  _god_ he feels so nice pressed against you and he tastes so good you almost never want to stop.

But, of course, you have to, but even when you do, panting and clinging to him like you’re scared he’ll disappear, Thor trails soft kisses from the corner of your mouth along your jaw until you’re laughing and he joins you with a smile.

You meet eyes and his are so blue you don’t think you can look away. He smiles, and it’s so perfect it melts your heart, “Ever since I met you I wanted to do that.” He confesses, hand coming up to brush your cheek with his thumb softly, “I never thought you would care for me in this way. To say I was pleased to hear you feel just as I do is an understatement. 

“You’re the most hilarious, beautiful person I have met in my time here. Every time I manage to stop you long enough to talk to you, I feel grateful. You don’t judge me like others do - you listen and you care and I feel nothing but adoration for you and would like to… further what this is, if you would also.”

Thor looks at you hopefully, and he’s so handsome it hurts. You’re tongue-tied, but that kiss and his confession has cleared your head like a shock of cold ice. “Are-are you saying you want to date me?”

“If I’m correct in believing that means I want to be with you romantically, then yes, but only if you would like to date me as well.” Thor smiles, waiting for your response.

“I-of course I would!” You say, probably too fast, but Thor isn’t put off by your enthusiasm in the least. In fact, he grins even wider and laughs in that boisterous way of his that makes everything around you feel so light.

“Now, that that’s settled,” Leaning forward, Thor kisses the tip of your nose before coaxing you to lay back down on his chest, “Let’s take this moment to relax before our mutual friend, Peter, comes to gloat at me about how right he was.”

You perk up, “Hold on, what does Peter have to do with this?”

Thor opens one eye to look at you before closing it and stroking your hair softly, “I had asked him if you and he were together a while back before I decided to pursue you. He had actually encouraged me to reveal to you how I feel tonight, though before I managed to gather the courage, you beat me to it.” Thor sounds both impressed and amused, before he again encourages you to lay down.

You do so with a smile and a small shake of your head. No wonder Peter was so up in your business about this. He was right, and you’ll probably have to apologize for being so stubborn and thank him for meddling in your life, for once. But that can wait for later. Right now, you’re happier than you think you’ve been in a while - content to fall asleep in Thor’s arms, excited for what’s sure to be an interesting tomorrow.


End file.
